LustUndone (5 page)

Me?” Sophia was stunned. “What for?”

The waitress gave her a sarcastic smirk. “I can think of at
least ten things.”

“No. Please. Tell him I’m leaving with my sister and my
coworker.”

“Not me, honey. I never deliver unwanted news.” She sashayed
away.

Sophia looked at her sister. “He’s your friend. You got me
into this, now get me out of it.”

But Rebecca’s mouth was fighting a grin. “Actually I think
you could use a little diversion. You look as if you’re wound tighter than a
coiled spring.”

“Please. We’re digging into another of the devil beast’s
killings. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Logan?” She turned to her partner.

He held up his hands. “The man bought us a drink. The least
you can do is thank him. And from what I saw it wasn’t Rebecca or me that
inspired his hospitality.”

And it would have been hard not to take a minute to say
goodbye when they left with both Rebecca and Logan practically shoving her
toward the bar. Clint looked up as she approached.

“Lot of enthusiasm there,
chere
.” Again the hot,
smoky voice rolled over her and made her body throb.

Stop this! There’s no time for hanky-panky. Besides, you
just met the man.

“Thank you for the drink.” She made her tone as formal as
possible. “That was very kind of you.”

“You staying at the Skye?”

She blinked. “What? Why?”

“It’s a weeknight. I close at midnight. See you then.”

“What?” she asked again. “Wait, I—”

But he had already moved toward the end of the bar where a
customer tapped an empty glass on the polished wood.

“Come on.”

Logan had stepped up and tugged on her arm. “I don’t know
about you but I’m about ready to pass out.”

I’ll keep my door locked. He’ll have to make a racket to
get in and the motel will make him leave.

Yeah, right.

“See you in the morning.” Rebecca hugged her in the parking
lot. “You can get back to that internal conversation I watched you having. Oh,
and try to get at least a little sleep.” She winked.

“I’m going to get plenty of sleep,” she told her sister.
“You’ll see.”

Sophia grumpily buckled herself into the SUV and left
Rebecca laughing beside her car. If Clint Beaudine had the nerve to show up at
her motel room she’d send him on his way in a big hurry. She had work to do and
needed a clear head.

Of course, it had been longer than she could remember since
she’d tangled the sheets with any man, and even longer—if ever—since a man had
turned her on so fast and so hard.

Well, damn. Now what did she do?

Chapter Three

“What’s the word?” Dante Martello dropped into the chair
next to the comm center where Ric Garza had just completed a call with Sophia
and Logan.

“Same old, same old.” Ric rubbed the late-day stubble on his
jaw. “Craig got us into the investigation but no one’s really buying our
theory. Crazy idea. Yada yada yada. You know. The usual shit.”

“We’re all wigged-out freaks, right?”

“You got it.”

Ric picked up the coffee mug from the keyboard tray and took
a sip of the now-tepid liquid. He’d been monitoring the system all evening,
waiting for the call from Maine and searching for any other reported deaths.
The team was still trying to determine if they were tracking one fast son of a
bitch devil beast or if, as they’d hesitantly begun to wonder, someone was
breeding the damn things.

“I’d think,” Dante said, “that if any of the state
detectives had seen the bodies from the last spate of killings up there they’d
be a lot more open-minded about what they were looking for.”

Rich shrugged. “I think people are frightened about things
beyond their comfort zone. Things they don’t feel they have any control over.
Their first reaction is to deny its existence.”

The other man laughed. “I might have said the same thing
about shapeshifters until I became a part of the Night Seekers.”

Ric looked at him with curiosity. “You never have said what
happened when Craig first contacted you. How you reacted to the whole thing.”

Dante leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs,
his face somber. “I was a fucking mess, I’ll tell you that. I hadn’t been sober
since I’d found my wife’s body and I was on an extended leave from Chicago PD
with orders to get my act together.”

“I have to say, I know how you were feeling.” Ric had been
the one to find his mother’s body destroyed by the Chupacabra. “So I guess he
dropped in on you like he did with the rest of us.”

“Yeah, but with one difference. I’m not a shifter. First he
had to convince me I wasn’t in somebody’s weird movie gone bad.”

“But you seem okay with it.”

Dante laughed. “I gotta tell you, shifters are actually a
lot less strange than half the people I busted in Chicago. I’ll take you guys
anytime. Anyway, back to the call from Maine.”

“Not much else to tell.” Ric shuffled through his notes.
“Sophia’s sister Rebecca, also with the state police like Sophia was, is
working with them and they’re getting whatever help they can from the others.
Logan said he just hopes they’ll get folks to see the light before the next
killing.”

“That means they’ll have to start watching at night, and
from what I understand it’s vast and dark out there.”

“Uh-huh.” Ric nodded. “They’ll do their best to warn people,
then figure out how to cover the most likely targets.”

“Well, let me know if they need more of the team up there.”
He grinned. “I’ve never been to Maine.”

* * * * *

The parking lot at the Skye Motel was nearly filled when
Sophia and Logan pulled in, a testament to the many tourists in the area for
skiing and other winter sports so readily available. The place was a fairly
recent addition to northern Maine hospitality. She still remembered its grand
opening only a few years earlier, on a very cold day in winter. Almost at once
skiers and snowmobilers had begun filling it, followed in the spring and summer
by fishermen and hunters and just plain vacationers.

Ric had reserved an efficiency unit there for each of
them—“More space and better to make yourselves comfortable,” he’d said. It
would definitely do for however long they were there. Sophia appreciated its
hominess and amenities as she closed and locked the door. She was definitely
ready to put aside the tension of the day.

They’d made a quick grocery run to stock some basic
provisions for themselves. Now Sophia took the time to unpack her suitcase and
put away the groceries. She convinced herself the reason she took such a long
shower with scented gel was to get rid of the grime and grit collected on her
body throughout the day.

Yeah right. That’s why I’m spraying on cologne, too,
right?

He’s not coming and if he does I’m not letting him in.

Oh, another big fat lie.

She brushed her hair vigorously, angry with herself for even
entertaining stray thoughts and deliberately pulled on her old extra-large
University of Maine t-shirt, one that hung down to her knees. Not glamorous but
worn and soft for sleeping, besides, who the hell did she have to impress? She
couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any kind of relationship.

Before the twins were killed.

Sighing, she turned out the light, crawled between the
covers, closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

Ten minutes later, despite the strain and fatigue of the
day, she was more wide awake than ever. And staring at the lighted numerals on
the bedside clock.

Ten thirty.

This is ridiculous. I will not think about that man.

I don’t do this. I don’t do this. I don’t do this.

Maybe if she repeated it to herself enough times she might
actually believe it.

She flopped onto her side, punched the pillow and slammed
her eyes shut.

But instead of sleep she was visited by a dream starring the
cocky Clint Beaudine. He wore only jeans that clung to his lean hips, his flat,
muscled chest above the waist heavily dusted with hair as richly dark as that
on his head. His eyes smoldered and heat shimmered around him. He walked toward
her lazily, confidently.

“I’m going to fuck you,
chere
.” That voice reached
way down deep inside her.

“No!”

Sophia shouted it so loud she startled herself into full
wakefulness. She only hoped the walls were thick enough so Logan hadn’t heard
her. Waiting to see if the phone rang or a knock sounded on the door, she
finally eased back down onto the pillows.

Well, that didn’t work out too well.

No matter what she did, her body wouldn’t relax nor would
her mind. When the light tap sounded at her door at twenty after twelve she was
through arguing with herself, through finding excuses.

Trembling slightly with anticipation she undid the deadbolt
and security lock and pulled the door open. Clint Beaudine was leaning into the
frame looking like the world’s original bad boy. He was just as she’d seen him
in her mind earlier, except that he was wearing a t-shirt and a sheepskin-lined
jacket. His eyes were just as smoldering, his face just as strong-featured and
one lock of his thick hair fell over his forehead. His mouth curved in a hungry
smile.

“You gonna let me in,
chere
? I’m freezing my ass off
out here.”

As if it was the most natural thing in the world she opened
the door wide and stepped aside to let him cross the threshold. He bolted the
door, only half turning to do it so he could keep his gaze locked with hers.
Sophia backed up two steps, three, and bumped into one of the chairs at the
round dinette table. Clint discarded his jacket, still advancing toward her.
Then, before she could get a word out, he had his arms around her, his mouth
hot and hungry on hers.

His tongue was like a flame in her mouth, scorching her
everyplace it touched, sweeping, gliding, tasting. Her head swam and her bones
turned to liquid as he drank and drank and drank from her. His body against her
was just as hard as it looked, all steel muscle. And hardest of all was the
thick ridge of his cock pressing against her through the worn denim of his
jeans, like a brand burning through the layers of cloth.

Her fingers threaded through the heavy silk of his hair,
holding his head to hers. She forgot to breathe, forgot anything except this
man and the fusion of their mouths. When he finally lifted his mouth a fraction
she could see the amber in his eyes gleaming like tiny dancing flames. His
licked the outline of her lips then trailed kisses along the line of her jaw
and down the column of her neck.

“I’m going to fuck you,
chere
.”

It wasn’t the lust in his voice that shocked as much as his
use of the exact words she’d heard in her almost-dream. Desire skated along her
spine and burst into the throbbing walls of her pussy. She wasn’t sure how much
longer she could remain upright even within the iron circle of his arms.

Finally he loosened his grip and took a step back.

“We have too many clothes on.”

He turned her around, sat her on the edge of the bed and
pressed the switch on the bedside lamp. With the amber glow smoothing over his
body he stripped efficiently out of his jeans and t-shirt. No underwear. She
should have known he’d go commando. His body as just as magnificent as in her
dream only now she could see it all—the sculpted muscles, the same dusting of
dark hair on his legs, the lean hips and broad shoulders. And his cock, so
utterly magnificent, rising from a very thick nest of curls, the head dark and
flared, his sac lying heavy against his thighs.

“Like what you see,
chere
?” There was no mistaking
the slight arrogance in his voice. Clint Beaudine knew what he had to offer a
woman. No doubt about it.

Sophia had never in her life desired a man so much, felt
such powerful chemistry with another human being. Without thinking she
stretched out her arm to reach for his erection. He stepped closer to her and
her hand closed around the wide shaft, the skin like soft velvet over the core
of steel. Hard didn’t begin to describe its condition.

She rubbed her thumb over the head, spreading the small bead
of liquid seeping from the slit. Then stroked up and down, just once, before
his fingers clamped around her wrist.

“Later. Right now I have to be inside you.” He bent lower to
her. “But trust me, we’ll have time for whatever we want.”

Then he was gently pushing her back onto the pillows,
arranging her so her legs were spread wide. Two fingers probed her cunt and he
smiled at the wet heat he found there. His head dipped and he captured one hard
nipple as he knelt between her thighs. Fire jolted through her breast and
sizzled through her body at the warmth and pull of his mouth. She arched
herself up to him, widening her legs even more.

She hadn’t even noticed the condom in his hand until she
heard the crinkle of foil and he shifted his body to sheathe himself. Lifting
her legs, he draped them over his shoulder, placed the head of his cock at her
opening and drove into her with one strong hip-rolling push.

Oh god!

He was so thick and so long for a moment she feared she’d
split in two, but her body, eager for him, adjusted and accepted him. And
demanded more. She locked her ankles behind his neck, lifting her hips to him.

Bracing himself on his hands, he searched her eyes, asking
for answers to silent questions. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. As
if finding what he was looking for he exhaled a slow breath and began to pump
steadily in and out of her. With every thrust he deliciously scraped the walls
of her pussy, nerve endings flaming into life. He moved slowly at first, then
harder and faster, more and more, building the rush inside them both.

Sophia felt that thick coil of need wrapped so tightly
inside her begin to tighten more and more, a heated snake rising up through her
veins and pulsing through her body. She reached for that erotic peak, needing
it, her body demanding it. Every muscle was wound tight as the climax shimmered
just out of reach.